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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28826571">Who the fuck is Sam Winchester</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HudsonEls/pseuds/HudsonEls'>HudsonEls</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Dean Winchester is Sam Winchester's Parent, F/M, Gen, Hurt, Misunderstandings, Stanford Era (Supernatural)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 12:41:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,734</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28826571</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HudsonEls/pseuds/HudsonEls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They thought they knew Sam. Sure he was a little sketchy about his past, but who isn't? But when his brother shows up and crashes their weekend, they soon learn more about the two brothers then they ever could have imagined. </p><p>In other words: Dean and Sam Winchester as told by one Stanford classmate.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jess/Sam</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>116</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sam never told those campfire stories. The ones told well after midnight, a drink past tipsy, spilling about the bad dates and failed school projects. In fact, since he had stepped foot at Stanford, nearly two years prior, Michael couldn’t recall him mentioning anything serious about his past. </p><p>Sure he may have described a sleek black car, and the constant onslaught of classic rock he seemed to have endured (to which Michael would always roll his eyes), but he never mentioned his parents by name, and he certainly never mentioned a brother, which was why it shocked everyone who that sleek black car pulled up outside Sam’s door one day and a boy not much older then themselves stepped out. </p><p>He was tall with ragged jeans and a stained shirt. He stood out in a place like Stanford. </p><p>“Who is that?” Kelsey wondered aloud. She was turned to the window, taking in the same boy Michael was staring at. Jess turned too, interested. </p><p>“Fuck, what the fuck” Sam murmured. His face was as white as a ghost, he was shaking. Michael tuned to him, confused. The recognition was plain on his face. How did Sam know this boy, was he dangerous? By Sam’s reaction, Michael was inclined to think so. </p><p>The boy looked down at a piece of paper in his hands, and then back up towards Sam’s dorm. He started into the building. </p><p>  There was a knock on the door. Sam, still white, made no move to get up. With a sigh, Michael went to go get it. It was his room too, he supposed. </p><p>While he should have entirely expected the face that met him, apparently he hadn’t thought it through. The boy was standing there, looking every bit as dangerous as Michael’s first assessment concluded. </p><p>“Sammy,” His voice was soft and questioning. He looked into the room. Sammy? No one got away with calling him that. </p><p>Sam turned towards the boy, still making no move to get up. </p><p>“Hi, I am Jess,” Ever the saint, Jess stuck out her hand for the boy to shake. As if coming out of a trance, the boy moved his eyes from Sam to her hands, shaking it. His frown quickly morphed into a smirk, and a glint in his eyes appeared. Fantastic, a douche bag. </p><p>“Well hello Jess, it certainly is a pleasure to meet you,” His voice was teasing, yet still on edge. </p><p>“I’m afraid I still don’t know your name?” Jess responded, apologetic. A flash of something crossed the boy’s face. Hurt? Confusion? Michael couldn’t be sure.<br/>
“Dean,” the boy responded. The name meant nothing to Michael, yet Jess took in a quick breath and stood back, glancing quickly to Sam. </p><p>He still hadn’t moved. What was wrong with him? He was staring at Dean, unblinking. He was being rude. </p><p>“Sam” Michael said sharply. Kelsey nudged him with her knee. </p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“You’re off your game, Sammy,” There it was again, Sammy. Who was this boy? “Can I talk to him alone?” He asked the three of us, an air of confidence about him that made Michael quickly respond yes. He was eager to leave the room. </p><p>Michael and the girls quickly exited. “Who is he? Jess?” Michael said, turning to her. It was clear she knew. </p><p>“Dean,” She said, her voice shaky. “That’s Sam’s brother.”</p><p>Brother?</p><p>——————-</p><p>The girls had decided to call it a night after the tension inside the dorm began seeping out. Michael stayed. Where was he going to go? </p><p>Eventually the door opened. Sam stood there, still white, but no longer shaking. </p><p>“Sorry about that, come on in,” Sam turned away, leaving the door open. Michael stepped in side, stopping right inside the threshold. He glanced around. Dean was sitting in Sam’s desk chair, his feet propped on Sam’s bed. He still had his boots on. He was being rude. </p><p>“Um, hi? I’m Michael.”</p><p>“I’ve gathered, I’m Dean.” Michael nodded, unsure of what to say.</p><p>“Sammy,” Dean turned to Sam, gesturing to the door. It was less of a question and more of a statement. It reminded Michael uncomfortably of his mother sending him to his room. </p><p>“Dean I can’t” Sam’s eyes flicked between Michael and his brother. “I have class in the morning and we are going away this weekend for the holiday, please” His tone was begging, like a child asking, just ten more minutes?</p><p>“Right, playing house, huh,” Dean said, his smile still stuck on his face, though looking just that, stuck. </p><p>“Dean,” The pleading tone returned, making Michael uneasy. This was not the Sam he knew.</p><p>“Hey, um, you know, we love Sam, and we’ve heard so much about you,” lie “why don’t you join us? It’ll be fun. We can get to know what Sam was like before school.” </p><p>Sam turns to his brother, an unidentifiable look on his face. </p><p>“Naw, man, I gotta get back on the road, and its clear Sammy here is doing just fine,” Dean says already backing to the door. </p><p>“Come on Dean, its just the weekend, you can be back out by the week. I miss my brother,” He. Gives his brother that same pleading look.</p><p>“Aw, Sammy, never could resist those puppy dog eyes.” The smile was still on Deans face, though by now it looked stale. </p><p>It would sure be an interesting weekend. </p><p>—————————-</p><p>We made it up to the cabin by nightfall the next night. Just five minutes from the small town, the cabin was nestled just of the highway, yet deep enough into the woods that the traffic noise was muted. Though in Michael’s worry he pictured a horror movie-esque shack, the cabin was actually quite clean. It looked almost new and was very well maintained. </p><p>The slight musty smell was easily ignored.  </p><p>“The woods, really,” Dean gave a pointed look to Sam who just chucked. </p><p>“Reminds me of home,” he said with a shrug, glancing at that sleek black car parked just behind Michael's.</p><p>“Home, huh” The sound that escaped Dean was not quite a laugh. </p><p>Baffled by their conversation, Michael went up the stairs. There were three bedrooms, two with twin beds, and one with a queen. The girls quickly claimed the room down the hall, while the brothers claimed the room nearest the stairs. That left Michael with the big bed. More than fine by him. </p><p>———————</p><p>Michael was not sure what to make of Dean. Sam’s reaction to seeing his brother radiated unease - Sam was scared of nothing - Michael was sure this signified Dean was dangerous. Dean felt confident and powerful and sure of himself, yet when he first saw his brother his tone spoke of longing. </p><p>It was odd, Michael figured, that Sam had never mentioned a brother to him. Though Jess clearly knew who he was, it was odd that neither Kelsey nor Michael did. </p><p>The fire alarm quickly broke Michael out of his musings. Hurrying downstairs Michael quickly spotted Jess - a pan of spaghetti sauce clearly forgotten on the stove - waving a dish towel at the  alarm. Dean thundered down the stairs, knocking into Michael as he passed. Eyes white and breath short, he took in the room quickly. As his eyes flitted between the smoking spaghetti and his brother his breaths grew longer. He began to calm. </p><p>What the fuck? Michael can’t remember a dinner growing up where the fire alarm didn’t go off. </p><p>Jess chuckled, missing Dean’s panic “Sorry about that one guys, I just can’t cook!”</p><p>Dean recovered, his smirk from before settling onto his face. Eyes glinting and flirtatious he responded “Ain’t nothing to be sorry about sweetheart.”</p><p>“Dean,” scolded Sam lightly. Michael wondered if Dean knew about their relationship. </p><p>With the table set, they sat down to dinner. If a stranger were to walk by the table, they likely wouldn’t sense the polite tension resting under the conversation. The politeness screeched to a halt as Dean asked for more o the garlic bread. </p><p>His shirt rode up, just a bit, just enough for Kelsey and Michael to see the purple bruising along his stomach. </p><p>Kelsey gaped. Mouth open. She was being rude. However, Michael would let this one slide because his comment was nothing less then blunt. </p><p>“Man, what the fuck?” He gestured to Dean. He looked up, eyes glinting with a confidence. He seemed to be able to turn that on pretty quick. </p><p>“heh, funny story, I am a mechanic, right, and I was under this car, gorgeous car by the way, this old red Jaguar, and anyway, the Jack slipped and lucky I got good reflexes and was already rolling out, otherwise it’ve took my damn head off.” He smiled around at them, as if letting them in on a fun little secret. Sam’s brows furrowed, and his mouth got pinched. </p><p>The physics of the thing didn’t really seem to make sense to Michael. How did dean get hit on the ribs? He figured he’d let it go. There seemed to be a lot that he was just letting go. </p><p>As they finished dinner and were well into their beers, they settled on the couch. </p><p>“Dean, Can I -” Sam broke off, gesturing back into the kitchen. The brothers moved past the kitchen and back to the entry way, there voices were hushed but Michael could make out their words. </p><p>“Man, what the hell, where was dad?”</p><p>“Hey, Sammy, I’m not sixteen anymore. I can hunt on my own.” Hunting? Michael thought it was a car accident. </p><p>“Dean, you’re twenty-four, you’re not invincible, dad should be with you. He should be looking out for you.”</p><p>“Yeah, when did he ever do that, Sammy.”</p><p>“Dean-“ Sam sighed. It was clear this was fight that had happened many times before. </p><p>“Sammy” There it was again. That voice that reminded Michael so much of his stern mother. Sam shut right up. That was odd. That Sam was a stubborn one. </p><p>“Oh my god” That voice cam from right beside Michael. Small, timid, Michael turned to Kelsey. She was still, staring ahead at the fireplace. Michael turned to see what she was looking at. Just a flash. That was all he saw before it was gone. Just a flash but he could have sworn it was a girl. </p><p>“What the fuck was that” Jess was less timid in her response. Dean came flying through the door. </p><p>“Over there” Jess stood up and went next to Sam “There was a girl. There was a girl and then she disappeared. There was a girl.”</p><p>Dean and Sam looked at each other, but it was not surprise on their faces.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A trick of the light, yeah that was it a trick of the light.</p><p>Or a mass hallucination? Michael had done some papers on cults and he thought he could recall something like this. </p><p>A shadow from the window, that was it. Michael decided on his explanation and immediately his heart rate slowed. </p><p>Turning to Kelsey he told her just what he thought. The horror on her face morphed into anger and confusion.</p><p>“She was there, I swear to god Michael she was there.”</p><p>“a trick - look, it’s dark outside and we have the fireplace on, I’m sure a girl was walking by and the light hit everything right. Just physics stuff we don’t understand. I’m sure,” He could tell she was still angry, but what other explanation did they have? </p><p>Michael turned back to Sam and Dean. They were looking at each other. Deans eyebrow arched, he gave Sam a look. Sam flared his nostrils and his lips twitched just a fraction. Meaning was being passed through these expressions that Michael could not understand. </p><p>Dean snapped a smile onto his face, confident, like a reflex.</p><p>“Michael’s got it right, just a trick of the light, I’m sure.” He chuckled. It was forced and uncomfortable. He turned back to Sam. “Just a shadow, I wish.” Michael didn’t think anybody heard that last part. </p><p>“well, I don’t know about you guys, but I think I’m ready for this night to be over.” Jess stood up and made her way to Sam, planting a kiss on his cheek, waiting for Kelsey to stand, and the both of them made their way to their room. </p><p>“I’m off too, Sammy?” </p><p>“Yeah” The two brothers made their way up the stairs. Michael stayed rooted to the couch. </p><p>Michael was a man of science. Not that he was into STEM or whatever, he just firmly believed in what his eyes could see. He believed what the scientists told him. His family was far from religious - not even the church at Christmas kind of people. There was no reason for him to doubt that. </p><p>Not that he was doubting it</p><p>He was sure it had to be a trick of the light. And yet. And yet that girl - well it looked like he could have reached out and touched her. </p><p>Stop psyching yourself out, man. He stood up and made his way to the cabinet- pouring a glass of water. </p><p>Just a trick of the light. </p><p>Finishing the glass, but feeling no more at ease, he made his way up the stairs. However, with each step he climbed hushed voices were getting louder. </p><p>“You didn’t even look at me that night, how could I -“ the voice cracks and breaks off. Sam. </p><p>“You could have called, you could have reached out, something Sammy,” Deans voice was controlled and quiet, a sort of simmering anger. </p><p>“I couldn’t - I just” He breaks off again, “The bruises every other week, the constant worry, I just couldn’t do it” Bruises? Why would being in contact with Dean bring bruises. Sam’s voice was apologetic, why would he be apologizing for not wanting bruises, what was Dean doing to him. Why had he left?</p><p>“Come on Sammy, you know I wouldn’t have dragged you back - not if you really didn’t want it - you can’t put this one on me” Why is Dean blaming Sam?  All to aware he is jumping to conclusions, Michael remembers the haunted look on Sam’s face when he first saw dean. Michael remembers the fear, the shock, and now the bruises? </p><p>Their door is open a crack. Just a hair. Michaels curiosity gets the best of him and he peeks in just for a second.</p><p>- and then for one more because was that a gun? Why did Dean have guns. Michael was not comfortable with guns. Before he could go down a spiral, Michael forced himself away from the door, and into his own room.</p><p>—————————————-</p><p>Micheal woke the next morning with the weight of worry pressing down on his chest. In the split second before he remembered the girl-guns-dean, he was simply confused. However, after that split second the stress pressed down on him tenfold. </p><p>Who was Dean Winchester? </p><p>Downstairs he found the man who he had quickly convinced himself was some sort of serial killer, standing over the stove working on an omelet. Based on the look in Jess’ face, they were pretty good too. </p><p>He sat himself down at the island next to Sam, who was watching Jess with a pleased smile. Dean turned quickly and dropped a plate in front of Sam before turning to Michael </p><p>“what’ll it be? I got onions, peppers, cheese, mushrooms…” Dean had that same confident smile fit on his face. </p><p>“Yeah… that all sounds great.”</p><p>“Dean is the best cook,” Sam said, looking up with a dopey smile on his face, “ever since I was like 4 years old he’s been making these omelets. I’ve never had better.” His tone was conspirital and friendly, just like the Sam Michael knew. </p><p>Hang on - ever since Sam was four? Michael didn’t know how old Dean was, but certainly not much older then Sam. Why was a child using the stove? Michael brushed it off along with every other worry plaguing him. </p><p>Dean set down Michael’s omelet. No serial killer could make something this delicious, that, if nothing else, Michael was sure of. </p><p>A light flickered in the periphery of Michaels vision. Assuming Kelsey had finally woken up, he turned to the staircase with a teasing smile on his face.</p><p>That smile dropped right away. </p><p>There was a girl standing there. One with dark hair and dark eyes and skin that nearly glowed. Michael thought he could reach out and touch her. He didn’t.</p><p>“Sammy!” This voice was rough and deep. Commanding but not worried. Sam turned without hesitation at the sound of his brother’s voice, spotting the girl just after Michael. </p><p>“Fuck!” Sam jumped up, side stepping and rushing to the fire place. The girl was just staring at Michael. Sam grabbed an poker from the fireplace. It was sharp and it was swinging towards the girl. The young girl who was staring at Michael with wide eyes and knit eyebrows. </p><p>“No!” Michael jumped up, hand reaching for the poker before it could touch the girl. He was too late. The poker came down and Michael braced himself for a scream and a crunch that never came. </p><p>Instead he looked up, the girl had disappeared and all that remained was a cruel smirk on Sam’s face and coldness in his eyes.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What just happened, what did you do?” Michael could feel himself spinning out of control. He didn’t know what happened. He only knew this: the girl was not a trick of the light, which means there was a real girl in the cabin, which means that Sam just hit a real girl with a sharp metal poker. </p><p>Michael prided himself on his rational thinking, yet this seemed utterly unexplainable by rational thought. Sam - sweet, charming, baby-face Sam - just hit a real girl with a poker. Yet the girl did not scream, did not shout, did not fall or seem hurt. In fact, the poker seemed to go right through the girl. She seemed to just vanish. </p><p>Michael also knew that he did not like the look on Sam’s face. The cold, cruel, blank look that told Michael that striking young girls with fire pokers did not upset him much. </p><p>“All right, let’s just everybody calm down,” Dean put his hands up in a placating gesture. </p><p>“No, what the fuck was that…who the fuck are you” Michael turned to Jess. Her face was even paler then usual and her eyes almost comically wide. Almost. </p><p>Following Michael’s gaze, Sam turned to Jess. Clearly moving to kiss her, he startled when she dipped away. </p><p>“Answer his question” her eyes were trained on the floor next to Sam’s feet. She was almost imperceptibly shaking. Almost. </p><p>Dean looks up at Sam with a question on his face. Michael cannot decipher what that question is, but notices how quickly Deans face goes blank with Sam’s shake of the head. </p><p>“Right, normal” Dean mutters, loud enough for everyone to hear. He smiles a wide cocky smile and opens his mouth as if to speak. Pausing abruptly he turns to Sam, “ah, I got nothin’”</p><p>“Uhm, that was…mm well…” Something glints in his eyes, it’s sudden. “You guys know I’m taking that intro to film class? Yeah, well we are learning about different effects and as an assignment I had to use a projection. It’s like a film thing” </p><p>“Why wouldn’t you tell us that, I could barely sleep last night.” Michael turns to the stairs, spotting Kelsey. Oh boy, her moods are almost worse then Sam’s. </p><p>“Um, I wanted it be authentic”</p><p>“Hang on, I took that class last semester, we just analyzed films” Jess stated pointedly to Sam, demanding explanation. </p><p>“I guess they changed it? I don’t know I’m not the professor.” <br/>Michael knew Sam could tell a fib. Little white lies and elaborate concocted stories had gotten the pair out of many a perilous bar situation, but Michael never pegged Sam for an actor. Those cold eyes and satisfied were Oscar-worthy if fake. </p><p>But what did Michael know, really. He knew there weren’t such things as ghosts, he knew that special effects have really gotten quite good, and he knew that Sam would do almost anything for a good grade. </p><p>Turning back to his omelet Michael spotted the two brothers make eye contact, pass some meaning between them as they seem to be able to do, and exit the room. A slamming of a door and creaking of a porch tells Michael they had left the cabin. </p><p>—————-<br/>Poker night was a tradition amongst the group. Once a semester, in the middle of the semester, they would get together and drink too much bear, eat too many chips, and probably talk a little too much smack. </p><p>Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, they had never played with Dean before. When the game was announced he smiled wide. It was a bigger smile then Michael had seen before. A genuine one. </p><p>The answer to why that smile overtook Dean’s face became quickly apparent.</p><p>“Jesus Dean, tone it down a little” Sam grumbled as Dean added the pot to his stack.</p><p>“ah ah ah Sammy, you know I can’t tone this down”</p><p>“How often do you play this?” Michael didn’t understand how someone could be so good at cards.<br/>“Ah man, growing up I’d play this, what five, six times a week?” Dean’s expression is nostalgic, if a little pained. Sam seems to gather what Michael does, and looks down, a slight frown on his face. </p><p>“Six times a week? God, you and Sam must have been starved for entertainment.” </p><p>“huh, something like that” Dean chuckled, though his eyes were strained. “Naw, I didn’t play Sammy, I’d go to these bars, right, drunk guys practically begging to lose all their money.” Again, he acted as though he was letting the group in on his own little secret. </p><p>Six days a week a teenager was hustling money from guys at a bar? That didn’t seem like a healthy environment. Michael’s own childhood had been filled with sports games and homework. <br/>Sam gave a little huff beside him.</p><p>“Aww, Sammy doesn’t like to talk about my nefarious activity,” Dean said, wiggling his eyebrows at Jess. “I think he forgets which activities put dinner on the table.” The last part is quiet. Michael isn’t sure if he was meant to hear it. </p><p>Sam heard it though. He glanced at dean quickly with that same pinched face he makes when he skips class or has to cancel on Jess. Guilt, Michael realizes. Sam feels guilty.</p>
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